Poems by Ali Abukhattab

Empty   The wind has its logic..And you walk against saltiness of time.The place smells croaks in you.You spin your death by hands of holes.You stick to the wind hissingYour self burnt on the flame of fragmentationYou create your ceremonies in mixing the tears by the fantom foamYour crushed myth rises from the poem hell          Go up                  Go […]

Read more